Raul's Revenge Page 12

  'My son. And if you don't mind I would like to get dressed and go and see him.'

  'It will not work, Penny; you can try as hard as you like, but James is our son and in my home—where he is going to stay.'

  Bristling with anger, Penny stared up into his hard face. 'Two weeks holiday, you said, and then we are out of here.'

  'I lied; you are not leaving, and, God willing, in nine months' time James might have a brother or sister.'

  Penny's mouth fell open with shock.

  'You'll catch flies like that,' Raul drawled mockingly, his dark eyes lit with amusement.

  'You swine, you did that deliberately.'

  'Well, last time it only took the one night in Dubai; I have no reason to suppose this time will be any different.'

  Poleaxed did not begin to describe Penny's feelings. It had never once occurred to her that she might get pregnant again, and she squashed the flicker of pleasure the thought of another child gave her. She would not give Raul the satisfaction.

  'A shakedown in the shower is hardly likely to end up in pregnancy,' she said flippantly.

  'A shakedown...' Raul shook his dark head in dis­belief. 'Dios! You have changed. The young girl I once knew would never have spoken that way.'

  'The naive, besotted fool you once knew no longer exists,' Penny snapped back, glad to have jolted him for a change.

  'Did I read you all wrong in the past, Penny? Were you really besotted?' His dark eyes caught and held hers, and just for a second she was tempted to tell him the truth.

  But she saw the expectant gleam in his eye, and she was damned if he was going to win again. Instead she straightened her shoulders and strolled across the room, opening drawers willy-nilly until miraculously she found some underwear.

  'No answer, Penny? It is unlike you to be stuck for words.' His mocking voice infuriated her and, strug­gling into briefs and a bra, she let the towel fall to the floor before turning to face him.

  He was standing leaning against the dressing table, still wearing only a towel and looking impossibly smug.

  'What's to say? The past is past. Now, where did you say my clothes were?'

  'At my instruction, Ava transferred all the clothes you left in the guest room and the dressing room to the an­tique wardrobe over there.' She saw him flick a long hand in the direction of the huge mahogany cupboard.

  Penny did not like the sound of that. Where exactly was she supposed to sleep? She bit her lip but made no comment; instead, moving to the wardrobe, she flung back the door and eyed the row of dresses, trousers and sweaters she had left behind two years ago.

  Grabbing the first garment—a pale blue shift dress-she pulled it quickly over her bead, doing her best to ignore Raul's brooding presence. Smoothing the sleek blue fabric over her slender hips, she glanced across at his lounging figure. But he wasn't finished with her yet.

  'But the past is not past for you and me, Penny.' Raul gave her a feral grin. 'We have a very lively son, and maybe more in the future.'

  She did not need reminding again of how careless they had been. 'For me the past is over, and, as for the present, if I get pregnant then you and Nick will have to have a blood test.' Swallow that one, buster, she thought mutinously. So far Raul had had everything his own way. It was time he had something to sweat over for a change. But to her amazement he burst out laughing.

  'I'm glad you find it funny,' she said flatly. 'But the joke might be on you in nine months' time.'

  'Nice try, Penny. An hour ago I might have believed you. But young James is a very intelligent little boy.'

  'Even you wouldn't stoop so low as to question a young boy little more than a baby.'

  Straightening to his full height, Raul stalked across the room and stopped a pace away from her. 'I did not have to. I looked in on him before joining you in the shower. He was quite talkative. Apparently he sleeps with you, and Uncle Nick sleeps with Amy.'

  She felt a fool; the colour surged in her face and she could not look at Raul. Instead she deliberately changed the subject.

  'I need a drink or something—the after-effect of whatever poison you gave me, no doubt. I feel sick to the stomach.' And she did, but only she knew that it was with shame—shame that she had given in to Raul's lovemaking, shame because her own innate honesty forced her to admit that she had enjoyed it.

  His hand came out and gripped her wrist as she would have walked past him. A current of feeling ran through them, linking them in an electric tension. 'Not so fast, Penny.'

  'Let go of me,' she said, raising her eyes to his.

  Raul smiled unpleasantly. 'No.'

  For a long moment her eyes skimmed the hard fea­tures of the man she had once loved, the man whose child she had borne, and she wondered how she could have allowed herself to be so easily deceived a second time. 'Let me go.'

  Something ugly moved in the golden-flecked eyes, but no hint of emotion disturbed the harsh angles of his handsome face. His fingers tightened painfully on hers. 'Never,' he said softly, silkily. 'And let me make one thing quite clear—I checked with a doctor and the two pills I gave you were quite harmless, simple sleeping pills. Yours in fact.'

  'Mine?' she exclaimed in astonishment.

  'Yes; the ones your doctor left for you when James was stolen. I took them from your bathroom cabinet'

  The audacity and cunning of the man left Penny speechless. It was almost funny! But one glance at Raul's set face told her that now was not the time to laugh, as he continued, his voice hard and heavy with derision, 'So don't try and blame a supposed drug for what hap­pened in the shower. You wanted me. However much you say you hate me, however you try and defy me, both you and I know the chemistry between us is still as powerful as the night we met.'

  Her lashes fluttered down; she could not hold his gaze without giving away the truth. He was right.

  'Because of that, and because of James, I am pre­pared to give you a choice. You can live here with me, take up where we left off more than two years ago, or go back to England on your own. But a platonic re­lationship between you and me is not an option.'

  Penny looked up and saw the merciless glitter in his dark eyes. 'That is no choice at all,' she said in a hor­rified whisper.

  'It is the only choice you are going to get,' he said, with a chilling lack of emotion that made her blood run cold.

  She stared up at him, the full enormity of what he had suggested slowly sinking into her emotionally bat­tered brain. 'But...'

  His dark head swooped and his mouth bruised her love-swollen lips. After a moment he lifted his head and she saw in his cold, implacable smile something sinister. She shivered, yet it was Raul who was almost naked.

  'Think about it—' he dropped her hand '—while I dress for dinner.'

  'But-'

  'No more buts, Penny. You're beginning to sound like a parrot.' And, easily reaching past her, he pulled open a drawer.

  'B—' She almost said it again, but the mocking smile he shot her as he quite casually dropped the towel from his waist and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts stopped her. 'Where is James?' she asked, avoiding looking at Raul. 'I need to see him.'

  'Your old bedroom, but don't be long; dinner is in half an hour.'

  Penny dashed to the cot and stared down at her sleeping son. He looked so peaceful, his little hand curled around a floppy-eared teddy bear. She bent down and pressed a swift kiss on the top of his dark curls. He murmured slightly but did not wake up. She stared at him, a host of turbulent thoughts and emotions swimming in her head.

  James was such a happy, contented little chap; a small, sad smile curved her generous mouth. The little boy had no knowledge of the trauma surrounding him, and she knew that she had to keep it that way. However much she might resent and despise Raul, rage at fate that had played such a cruel trick on her, as a mother all her in­stincts told her that, whatever the cost to herself, James must be shielded from the quarrel between his parents.

  Lifting her head, she looked aroun
d her old room; her eyes widened in amazement as she took in the sur­roundings. What had once been an elegant guest room was now a nursery. The huge, old-fashioned cot claimed pride of place in the centre of the room. A large rocking-horse stood under one window, and under the other stacks of toys. The wall had been painted cream and stencilled with dozens of Walt Disney characters. Sud­denly the enormity of what had happened hit her...

  For hours, days, weeks, even, she had been living in a kind of dream or nightmare. From the moment she'd lost her son for a day until now she had not been thinking clearly.

  This room... a nursery... The boat trip... Raul had planned every move down to the finest detail. He must have started from the first moment he'd realised that James was his son. Whereas Penny had been so eu­phoric at getting James back that she had taken Raul at face value, had quite blindly believed him when he'd said that he would not fight for her child, had believed he had no interest in her whatsoever.

  What a joke! While Penny had been congratulating herself on behaving as a mature adult, doing the right thing by her son, Raul had been plotting his every move.

  Just how well he had succeeded was brought home to Penny ten minutes later when she reached the bottom of the grand staircase to be swept into the motherly arms of Ava.

  In rapid Spanish Ava, with tears in her eyes, said, 'You poor, dear girl. When the master told me a wicked, wicked woman had stolen your child I could not believe it. He showed me the newspaper and I wept. But thank God the master found you and you got the baby back.'

  'Ava—' Penny tried to break in but didn't get the chance.

  'You are not to worry ever again. Carlos and I will guard the baby with our life and the master has hired security men for the road. You will both be perfectly safe here.'

  Touched by the older woman's concern, but with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Penny re­sponded in Spanish. 'It's good to see you again.' And, kissing Ava's weathered cheek, she meant it. But she realised with a kind of fatalistic acceptance that Raul had covered all the bases. There was no chance of Penny persuading the older woman to help her get away.

  She lifted her head and Raul was standing leaning against the dining-room door, waiting for her. He was immaculately dressed in a white silk shirt and dark lounge suit, his hair brushed firmly back from his broad brow, his face cool and aloof.

  'If you two ladies have quite finished your tearful reunion, I am a very hungry man.'

  His dark eyes clashed with Penny's, and for a fraction of a second the coolness faded, replaced by a naked hunger of another kind. She felt her stomach curl in answering need. Then it was gone, his formidable control once more in place, and, following Raul into the dining room, she put her own reaction down to lack of food.

  'Would you like a drink?' Raul asked, stopping at the long oak sideboard where a decanter and array of bottles were on display with a dozen crystal glasses.

  Ignoring his question, Penny said tightly, 'Clever. Very clever, Raul. But really, a guard on the road... isn't that overdoing it a bit?'

  He glanced over his shoulder to where she stood by the dining-room table, bristling with anger and re­sentment. 'Nothing is too good for my son; I have no intention of allowing anyone, including you, to take him away from me. Understood?'

  She recognised the cold menace in his tone and knew that now was not the time to argue with him. But she did raise her head in a valiant attempt at dignity. 'In that case give me a sherry. I need one. I do not appreciate being threatened by a... a... pirate...' she blustered.

  ‘A pirate?' Raul spun to face her, one dark brow arched sardonically. 'Really, Penny!' He almost smiled. 'A Freudian slip? A subtle invite to rape and pillage, perhaps? You are getting desperate.' And, chuckling at her gasp of outrage, he turned his attention to the drinks tray and poured sherry from the decanter, filling two glasses.

  Desperate was not the half of it, Penny thought, watching him warily as he approached and held a glass out to her.

  'Drink this; it might cool that vivid imagination of yours and steady your nerves.'

  'I don't have unsteady nerves,' she shot back, but took the glass and sipped the fortified wine. It gave her the courage to demand, 'I want to ring Amy; she will be worried.'

  Raul drained the liquid from the glass in his hand and, setting it on the table, stared down at her in a cold, as­sessing way for a long moment, the tension in the air growing by the second.

  'All right.'

  Shock kept her motionless, her brow furrowed in a puzzled frown. Raul had agreed. She had not expected it, and as she watched he walked across the room to where the phone rested on an occasional table and quickly dialled a number, and spoke. 'Raul here.'

  'Wait a minute.' Galvanised into action, she dashed after him. 'Hey, wait a minute, I said.' She grabbed his sleeve; he glanced down at her hand, a wicked glint in his dark eyes.

  'Hello, Amy. How are you managing on your own? Penny was worried about you. Yes... yes. Here she is.' But before handing Penny the receiver he bent and whis­pered, 'I'll be listening, and upsetting your friend will not do either of you any good.'

  Penny gripped the receiver, tears hazing her eyes at the sound of Amy's voice.

  'What the hell is going on, Penny? I couldn't believe the telegram. I went to the police and they said it was all above board; Raul left them his phone number if they needed to get in touch.'

  This was her big chance, Penny realised. All she had to do was tell Amy the truth—she had been abducted by the father of her child. Amy would move heaven and earth to help her. Penny would probably make the news. Yet again! A bitter battle over James would ensue. She imagined the scenario, the headlines in the newspaper: Son Abducted One Month. Mother and Son the Following Month. She would be a laughing stock at best, and, at worst, viewed as a totally incompetent mother.

  She stood with the receiver jammed to her ear. She opened her mouth but her throat closed up. She lifted pained eyes to Raul's face. There was no softening in his hawk-like regard, and she knew in that second that she could not do it. She was beaten...

  'Penny? Penny, are you still there?'

  She swallowed hard. 'Yes, yes, I'm still here, Amy. I'm sorry if you were worried. But I'm fine; James is fine.' Once she had told the first he it got easier. Forcing a lightness to her tone that she did not feel, Penny con­tinued, 'I decided at the last minute James and I needed a holiday after the abduction and everything... and R-Raul—' she stumbled over his name '—kindly offered us accommodation at his hacienda—'

  'Kind? Raul? Are you sure?' Amy cut in suspiciously.

  'Perfectly. I thought we would stay a couple of weeks. That is, if you can manage on your own.'

  A dry chuckle echoed down the wire. 'You're kidding, of course! Since the new health centre opened Sense and Sensibility barely needs one pharmacist, let alone two.'

  With relief Penny let Amy ramble on about the business or lack of it, and when she finally put the tele­phone down Penny knew that her friend was convinced that she was all right.

  'Very sensible,' Raul said quietly.

  Any remark Penny felt like making was halted as the housekeeper bustled into the room carrying a soup tureen.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dinner had been a tense affair. Neither one of them had done justice to Ava's supposedly celebratory meal. Penny had been too busy arguing for her freedom in increasing desperation while Raul, with cold inflexi­bility, had refused to be moved from his original statement. She could go or stay, but James stayed...

  Penny had felt her nerves winding up like a corkscrew every time she glanced across the table and met Raul's dark, implacable gaze. She was exhausted. And all she wanted to do was bury her head in the sand like an os­trich and pretend it was all a bad dream.

  She had refused Raul's suggestion to take coffee in the salon, preferring the hard-backed dining chair and the width of the table between them, but as she drained her cup and replaced it on the table she could stand the tension, the stalemate
no longer.

  'Where exactly am I supposed to sleep?' she ground out between tightly clenched teeth as her blue eyes clashed with Raul's yet again. ‘There is no bed in James's room.'

  'With me, of course.'

  He smiled, and she could see that he was deadly serious. Her stomach clenched in fear—and another emotion she dared not recognise. She knew just how persistent Raul could be. An attractive, virile male with wealth and power plus a single-minded, ruthless deter­mination to get his own way was a combination almost impossible to beat, and, being brutally honest, she was no longer sure that she wanted to beat Raul... 'No,' she finally responded shakily, but she had delayed too long.

  Raul had moved and was beside her, one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table, hovering over her like some great black avenging angel. ‘The nursery is for James...' he said with chilling softness. 'Alone...' And, straightening to his full height, he care­lessly flicked a finger under her chin, adding, 'End of subject.'

  He dismissed her as he would a child, just as he had done years ago, Penny thought, her anger rising again. 'Not so fast,' she cried, and, leaping to her feet, she caught the sleeve of his jacket as he made to leave. His black head turned and she stared up at him, tears of anger and frustration stinging her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. 'James needs me; he's still a baby,' she protested violently.

  'He may need you, but he is too old to share a bedroom with his mother,' Raul declared, his eyes narrowing to skim assessingly over her slender body, the blue of the simple shift she wore reflecting in her wide, defiant eyes. 'I, on the other hand, rather like the idea.'

  Penny shivered, alarm and, more shaming, an electric awareness running through her as she stared at him in silence for a second. Her heart leapt as Raul moved closer, his hand threading under her hair to clasp the back of her neck. 'You... you can't make me,' she said, fear making her stammer.

  'I could, but I hope I won't need to, Penny,' he said and smiled—a cruel twist of his firm lips. 'Because you are going to sleep in my bed even if I have to carry you there myself. This is not negotiable.' And he lowered his head. Then his mouth stole her breath away.